


here we are

by troubadore



Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, M/M, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-14
Updated: 2020-01-14
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:08:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22258474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/troubadore/pseuds/troubadore
Summary: And yet...here we are.There might have been a little more to that confession than Jaskier intended.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 18
Kudos: 519





	here we are

**Author's Note:**

> welp! guess who got into the witcher recently! (spoiler: its me) ngl i didnt expect to love geralt/jaskier as much as i do but im not actually surprised at myself either orz 
> 
> anyway this particular line of jaskier's has been eating at me for 2 weeks now bc that was a confession of love if ive ever heard one and while everyone else is writing abt The Breakup in ep 6 im gonna write abt The Confession in ep 4 bc i can and u cant stop me !!!!
> 
> this takes place after the engagement banquet and law of surprise but before any other major plot point involving them both  
> also disclaimer: ive only seen the netflix show (and technically not even all of that yet) and know nothing of the books or games

_And yet...here we are.  
_

Jaskier strums another soft chord out of habit. It floats through the air, traveling through the wind and dancing with the sounds of small animals off the path they’re following. When it fades, Roach’s steps against the dirt, as well as his own, are all that’s left.

Gods, that was so stupid to say. For all his way with words and knowing how to bullshit with them, a confession like that lingers, digs its fingers in and holds. He spins stories like he breathes, but that little kernel of truth won’t be forgotten anytime soon, he knows. He may as well have laid his heart in front of Geralt, still beating and pouring blood, and asked him if he'd keep it safe simply because it didn't belong to Jaskier anymore.

Not since that tavern where he'd seen a lonely witcher and thought, _That's a story I want to tell._

Suddenly, Geralt pulls Roach to a stop, and Jaskier glances up at him in surprise, eyebrows raised, before he looks around. “Is something wrong?”

Geralt doesn’t say anything—typical—but he also doesn’t give his usual dismissive hum, either, or tell Jaskier to _Shut up, I'm listening_ , which is not as typical. He continues looking forward for a moment before he clicks his tongue and huffs a breath out. “I’m going to regret this,” he says, almost to himself, and he finally looks at Jaskier, “but you’re being awfully quiet over there.”

 _Ah_. Jaskier pointedly strums another chord on the lute and shrugs. “I know how to be quiet,” he says, and Geralt just gives him an unimpressed look. “What? I do!”

“But you _aren’t_ quiet,” Geralt says. “That’s not you.”

“What do you know of me?” Jaskier scoffs, and he starts walking again. Something sits uncomfortably in his chest, like embarrassment and apprehension. Geralt isn't an idiot by any means, no matter the emotional constipation he likes to pretend at. “Only what I show you, and nothing more. I _choose_ to be loud, but I can be quiet. You’re always asking me to be quiet, anyway, I don’t know why this is a problem all of a sudden.”

“It’s a problem because it’s not you.” Geralt urges Roach on again, keeping pace with Jaskier’s steps. “Something’s on your mind. Spit it out.”

Jaskier gives a short bark of laugh at that. He plays a quick riff on the lute just to drown out the quickening of his heartbeat. “Oh, what a momentous day!” he exclaims, forcing a tone of lightness into his voice, edged in sarcasm. He's defensive, and he knows Geralt knows it, too. “Geralt of Rivia, actually _asking me_ what’s on my mind, showing he cares! Never thought I’d see it!”

He braces himself for a biting quip, the quick snap of Geralt's frustration at being given attitude where it isn't warranted, possibly followed by a night of being completely ignored and having nothing but himself to blame for it, but it doesn't come. “And yet,” Geralt says instead, rough voice uncharacteristically soft, not rising to the bait, and Jaskier stops, a sinking feeling in his stomach, “here we are.”

Birds twitter through the air. Something rustles the grass not too far off, and Jaskier watches a rabbit dart across the path. For a long moment, he doesn’t say anything, and neither does Geralt. Roach snuffs, ears flicking, but doesn’t jump to his defense.

Finally, Jaskier turns to face Geralt. He’s an imposing figure all in black, swords behind him, gold eyes bright and the wind running gentle fingers through his white hair. Fearsome, yes, because all witchers are, but charming too, and soft despite all his hard edges and the roughness he keeps around himself like a protective shield, and Jaskier wants nothing more than to spend the rest of his days at his side.

_The last thing I want is someone needing me._

Perhaps they'd both confessed a thing or two that they hadn't meant to give voice to then.

“You know,” Jaskier says, lightly, “stealing my words doesn’t make you sound any more profound. You just sound like a thief!”

Geralt snorts and rolls his eyes, and Jaskier turns up his nose in mock offense, and the heaviness of the moment falls away. He plucks at the strings of the lute and begins a tune he’s been working on for the last few days, singing loudly and as annoying as he can just to piss Geralt off, and they continue down the road towards the next town, the next hunt, the next twist in their story that destiny is writing for them.

And if that night by their campfire Jaskier plays something soft and intimate, meant only for himself and Geralt, and Geralt looks at him with something like fondness and doesn't tell him to stop, well—

Here they are.

**Author's Note:**

> hit me up [@troubadorer](http://twitter.com/troubadorer) on twitter to yell abt these dumb idiots in love


End file.
